Catharsis
by Crowbot
Summary: When a prince of Asgard sneaks down into Midgard's realm, he acquires something that could very well be looked down upon by the inhabitants of his kingdom and, in turn, cause a vast tempest of complications in its wake.
1. Listening

The door closed behind Frigga, a muted sound amidst the silence, and quiet descended like a veil over the room.

"Loki?" Ásenthilay whispered. "Is it safe to come out now?"

"Yes, it's safe."

The vole dæmon crawled out from beneath the pale green pillow and gently fluttered onto the young boy's shoulder as an azure dragonfly.

"Loki?" she asked in an undertone.

"What is it?"

"Why must I always hide away?"

Loki reached up and gently ran a finger across Ásenthilay's wings. "Because they must not know about you. If they did, they would probably take you away from me."

The little dæmon's wings fluttered. "Why?"

"Because you are different. I'm not... I'm not meant to have you."

"But, you wouldn't want me to be taken away, right?"

"Of course not," he said, placing his hands on his lap. "You're the only one who really listens to me."

She fluttered her wings, emitting a soft humming sound. "Maybe soon others will listen to you too."

For a moment, Loki flashed her the briefest of smiles. "Maybe soon."

* * *

He'd gone to Midgard without his parents' permission, slipping quietly through a spatial tear in one of the many castle's rooms; feeling rising excitement race through his veins.

He'd stepped out onto dried grass, gloom shading his form.

Pain lanced through his chest, slicing apart his insides. He stumbled, fell down onto his hands and knees, retching in reaction to the horrific agony. Shards of ice slid through his veins.

Then, just like that, the pain was gone. Leaving little more than aches clinging to his bones, in its wake.

In place of the pain, there was a sense of _something_. This sensation reverberated through him, pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

He opened his eyes, and found himself staring down into eyes that reflected his own.

"Hello," the source said quietly. "I'm Ásenthilay."

It was a magpie, one that spoke in the same language as he. And yet, it wasn't just a talking bird but, something more. In that simple exchange of looks, ends of an invisible thread connected; it reached out and twined through them both, linking them soul and mind, binding them.

"I am your dæmon," Ásenthilay said. "I am your soul personified."

Words couldn't be said. Loki had expected mortals, he'd expected life far different from Asgard's own, not a bird that spoke, uttering that she was his soul.

His mind babbled on that it was almost impossible. That it couldn't be right, and yet, in reality, he stayed silent.

He picked her up, knowing, somehow, despite what his mind disputed, that what she had alleged to was the truth. He could sense it - this connection; he could feel it as much as he could feel the chill of the evening air against his bare skin.

With her, he stepped out into the open.

Immediately, he was witness to the crowds of mortals; their souls, bared freely to the world for all to see.

It was nothing like he had imagined.

He took it all in - Ásenthilay murmuring that it was alright - and he felt strange.

Was this what life was like for them? Exposing their souls for everyone to bear witness to? Knowing not that it made them vulnerable? Weak?

He felt uncomfortable. Ásenthilay rested her beak against his arm.

"Don't worry," she said softly, and promptly took the form of a wasp. "We're not as vulnerable as you might think." Taking to the air, she buzzed around his head and settled down upon his hair. "See? I can take many forms, I can protect you."

"Many forms?" Loki asked in an undertone, glancing upwards at Ásenthilay.

"Yes, you needn't worry about me."

"Really?" His gaze swept across the crowd, focusing on a dog dæmon casually talking to his mortal female as they walked on by.

"Mortals are not as weak as some may believe them to be," Ásenthilay said. "Remember what Mother told you?"

A flicker of a memory came to mind, his mother wearing that face she always wore when discussing things of importance.

"Yes," Loki replied. "But... How do you know about that?"

"I remember it, simply because I was there," Ásenthilay said. "I just had no voice of which to remind you about it with."

Odin's watchers, Huginn and Muninn, appeared an hour later. The ravens circled above, calling out to Loki in their hoarse voices. They wanted to lead him away from the villagers.

Begrudgingly, Loki pursued, telling Ásenthilay to lay low. She crawled across his left arm as a ladybird, and clung tightly to the underside of his clothes.

Loki knew that Father wouldn't like her. He wouldn't be pleased with her at all. Loki's soul was now as obvious and vulnerable to attack as the mortal souls that currently surrounded him.

He mustn't let Father know.

The ravens settled upon the highest branches of a tree, croaking loudly down to Loki. He stepped forward until he was surrounded by the rising trees.

He took a breath in, then exhaled, clenching his hands into fists.

Father would soon be arriving.

There was a muted multi-coloured flash, a disturbance amongst the trees; the rustle of the branches were almost as loud as the rough cries of the pair of observing ravens. Then Odin stood before him, as towering and daunting as always.

"How did you get here?" he asked, his voice quiet and calm - as cold as steel. "You knew that I forbid you and Thor from leaving Asgard's grounds."

"I walked," Loki replied, daring to look into his father's eyes despite how his heart faltered.

"Lies. You found a way through, or did you make an entrance to Midgard yourself?" There was an inflection to his tone, as if he already knew the answer.

"I... I won't say."

Odin scrutinized him, the ravens swooping down to alight upon his shoulders. "For your ignorance and inability to listen to the rules I myself have put in place, you will be punished."

Loki opened his mouth to retort, but Odin's thunderous expression quickly made him close it again. Instead, he bowed his head slightly, Ásenthilay quivering in anger and apprehension against the underside of the fabric close to Loki's chest.

Odin took hold of his arm and the air around them compressed, the colours darkening and blurring before Loki's eyes.

Loki stumbled slightly as they silently returned upon the Bifröst bridge, and Odin released his hold.

"You are but a boy," he looked down at Loki, his expression unreadable, "and a prince. You are needed here in Asgard, not down there amongst _them_."

"But Father, isn't it right to learn more about them? You said once that it is our duty to learn as much as we can about the other realms, as it will help us in turn to learn how to keep the peace between us and them."

"No, it is not your duty, my son. Not yet."

Odin promptly turned away, and Loki quietly followed in his footsteps.

Together they walked back towards the golden city that was their home and kingdom.

* * *

The dawn had risen since Frigga had left Loki's room and he and Ásenthilay had conversed. Sleep had taken it's time in coming, Loki's mind revolving around Midgard, the dæmons and Ásenthilay. Why had Father and Mother never told him about this? The souls of the Midgardians so hard to miss, so easy to put in harm's way.

He'd imagine that it would have been an important aspect of his and Thor's learning, to let them know of the dæmons that the mortals possessed.

But, maybe... maybe Father didn't think that they were up to it. Didn't think that they were old enough yet to learn of such things. But, they were! They needed to learn about these elements if Father truly wished for them to one day rule in his place!

"Don't let it get to you," Ásenthilay said, brushing her wingtips against his neck in reassurance as she swooped down to settle comfortably as a starling on his shoulder. "Mother and Father surely just meant the best by their actions. They didn't intentionally keep this information from you to cause you annoyance."

"But, we do need to learn of these subjects, don't we?" Loki asked, pacing the confines of his chambers. He was not allowed outside of it; his punishment for his disobedience. "Shouldn't this be an important time in our lives? To learn as much as we can in preparation for the trials to come?"

Ásenthilay tilted her head, one beady brown eye focused upon him. "Yes but, you have many other realms to learn of, combative training to go through, new and profound spells yet to be taught to you. You cannot learn them all in one night."

"Maybe so but, you would think that I would be taught the most important aspects of the realms first and foremost. To me, the fact that the mortals walk around with their soul in tow is one of those important aspects."

Ásenthilay shook her head. "Maybe Father doesn't see it like that? He may well believe that what goes on in Midgard stays in Midgard."

Loki stopped, looking out of the window, at the brightening sky and the clouds that sluggishly moved across it. "What he believes is not what I believe. Besides," he glanced at Ásenthilay out of the corner of his eye, "why are you here? Father didn't suffer through the same pain that I did when I arrived in Midgard, so he has no dæmon to show for it but, you... you appeared after _I _went through that pain. Why?"

Ásenthilay dropped her gaze. "I do not know; I am as in the dark on that as you are."

He sighed. Everything, as of now, was a mixture of confusion and frustration. "Fine. For now, let's just pass the time reading."

"If you think that's best."

Loki settled down in his chair with a book in hand. Ásenthilay slipped into his lap as a small cat, bringing him as much comfort and reassurance as the text on the pages brought.

It was merely a day since Loki had been granted Ásenthilay, and yet it felt as if she had been beside him for a lifetime.


	2. Preservation

It had become increasingly difficult to hide Ásenthilay as the aeons had dragged on. She wanted freedom, a chance to breathe, and Loki wished for it as much as she. Except, they never seemed to get that chance. The only time that it was truly possible was when they were alone in his room (after the servants had done their part cleaning up and leaving Loki his newly pressed clothes), or wandering the garden pathways at night.

Sparring matches were a whole other story. The amount of spells he had to cast in order to keep Ásenthilay safe and hidden were extraordinary. Especially when Thor had suggested Sif to spar against him. She still held a grudge over the time when he'd sheared off all of her hair (oh come on, it'd just been in jest and as a prank). She did not go easy on him in the slightest. In fact, she went out of her way to make their sparring matches as difficult as possible.

Ásenthilay always complained about her brutality afterwards.

The dæmon had proven time and time again that the flaws attached to her, as a living, vulnerable, breathing personification of his soul, didn't matter. She spoke to him as an equal, expressed her ideas to match aspects of his own and knew him better than he knew himself.

"Disregard what the others say," Ásenthilay said. She lay on his lap as a grey fox, her tail curled beneath her chin. "Brawn isn't everything. Quick wit and swift actions in the thick of a battle can make all of the difference."

Loki shook his head, leaning back in his chair. His room was cloaked in shadow, lit only by the faint yellow flames that danced overhead - magic brought to life with a flick of his wrist. "That may be so but, brawn does play its part. We cannot deny that."

"No, we can't, and yet, you do so well without it." There was a glimmer of amusement to the dæmon's tone.

Brow furrowed in confusion, Loki looked down at her. "What, exactly, do you mean by that?"

"You know what I mean," Ásenthilay said with a quiet chuff of laughter. "You rely upon your magic and your stealth. You are quick on your feet and turn a skirmish to your advantage with your illusions and choices in long-range weaponry."

Loki hummed in thought. "Perhaps, although it still doesn't stop them from bringing my tactical differences up during the training regimes."

"Yes, however concealed beneath the mocking and the jeers they know, know that you are an asset to them, know that you are as fantastic a fighter as any one of them. Loki, you may lose in many a match to Thor -"

"That is the problem, rarely have I ever won against him."

Ásenthilay flicked out a tail, whacking it against his arm. "Let me finish."

With a flash of a scowl, he fell silent.

"You may lose in many a match to him but, you still challenge him. Your training regimes with Thor have lasted for far longer than you give yourself credit. You best him in wit and agility."

"For a time, only," Loki replied. "Still, he wins in the end."

Ásenthilay shook her head. "It does not matter. Don't let his wins get the better of you."

Loki ran a hand gently across Ásenthilay's furred back, a flash of frustration for his brother's superiority striking against his chest.

"They do, sometimes," he said quietly. "Is it so wrong to wish for a day where I get the best of him? Gain approval from Father for doing something right for once?"

"You are already doing the right thing," Ásenthilay said. "What does it matter if Father does not show you what is truly going on in that mind of his? You have Mother's approval; she believes that the control you have over your magic is vastly improving." Loki made a soft noise of dismissal - Ásenthilay turned to look up at him. "You are fine as you are, Loki. You do not need to change."

They were getting older, now seen as young adults by Æsir standards.

Odin sent Loki and Thor off on little tests, missions, to see how they fared. It was rare that they did not come back victorious. More often than not, Thor was the one praised for his efforts, whilst Loki was left to watch in the background, his own efforts acknowledged only by quick pats on his shoulder by Fandral or Volstagg in passing.

Seeing Thor take all of the credit...

It left a bad after-taste on Loki's tongue.


	3. Lies

The night was young, the world outside of his bedroom door a murmur of muted sound. Loki was seated in the middle of his chambers, his eyes closed. Encircling him in crocodilian form, Ásenthilay rested.

Loki lifted one hand, letting his mind free his limb of solidity. The warmth of his hand shifted, a crawling sensation ran up to his wrist. Where the skin once had been, shadows formed, twisting and writhing in the dull light. He opened his eyes, scrutinized the successful shift of his structure in curiosity, then without a sound, he returned what was shadow back to skin again. He clenched his hand into a fist, then opened it once more.

"Pulling myself away from this form and into something shapeless, mere smoke... It is rather advanced magic. It takes more out of me than I first thought it would."

"And yet, Mother believes that you have it in you to master it. She believes you capable."

"Hmm, yes, but I don't wish to simply master shadow manipulation, nor the art of structure reformation. I want to learn more about the shift from one form to another." Loki looked down at Ásenthilay. "Similar to what you can do. What is it like?"

"To shift from one form to another?" Ásenthilay flicked her tail to the side in thought. "It feels as if I am nothing more than light for a time, as if I will stay like that, during the change. But then, I pull myself into another shape, feel my body become something else, tug and stretch or shrink and push at me. And then, there I am, standing fresh and solid in my new form."

"There is nothing else to it?"

"Nothing else that comes to mind, no."

Loki pushed himself to his feet and brushed himself down. "Let's test it then. ... I wish to be free of this room for a while - be free of Asgard - will you accompany me?"

With a blurred twist of fur and scales, Ásenthilay looked up at him as an otter, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips, her eyes alight with laughter. "Do I have a choice in the matter?"

"Well, being that we are of the same mind and soul, no, you don't." He flashed her a small smile.

She snorted, and sat back on her haunches. "Well? How shall we go about it?"

"Like this." Swiftly, he reached down and scooped her up - and then they were outside, the night air whistling past their ears.

Ásenthilay slipped out of his grip, watching as Loki closed his eyes, focused. Moments passed them by, then, swifter than the eye could catch, a great horned owl stood where the teen once was.

It tilted its head at Ásenthilay, emerald green eyes glittering with undisguised mischief. "Well, what do you think?"

"You could do better," Ásenthilay replied, shifting her shape into that of a screech-owl. "Your eyes are still the same colour."

The feathers along Loki's neck raised. "Then, next time, my eyes won't be the same colour."

With a light laugh, Ásenthilay hopped forwards to nudge him. "Let's fly."

Wordlessly, they took to the air, their wings beating a muted song against it.

As the chill brushed through Loki's pinions, he revelled in it. Revelled not in the cold but, in the breaking of invisible chains, of the negative thoughts that had pinned him down, crawled through his mind and whispered in his ears. The freedom that flight brought had pulled him free of all other thoughts and feelings except for the simple joy and pleasure that sprang along through his veins.

He felt truly free.

Instinctively, he knew how to soar, how to dive, to swoop and how to glide. It felt as if he had known how to perform it all throughout his entire life.

Effortlessly, Loki and Ásenthilay glided, side-by-side.

It was a quiet companionship, no words were needed.

All of his frustration at his father - the way in which he seemed to care more for Thor than himself, the way in which Thor could always do that much better than him - all of those thoughts meant little in this moment.

Up here, he didn't have to hide Ásenthilay. Up here, there were no worries waiting to drag him down.

Eventually, they came to roost in a nearby tree. Folding their wings back against their sides, they surveyed the shaded garden below.

"It is rare for us to have this much liberty," Ásenthilay said, leaning down to preen at her chest feathers. "We should try this more often."

"If I have the time," Loki replied, turning to look at her. "It feels like I barely have any time to spare lately."

"What with all of the training you've been doing? I've noticed. Or have you forgotten that I am always by your side?"

If it was possible for a great horned owl to smirk in amusement, Loki would have. As he was limited in what facial expressions he could currently pull however, he opted to tilt his head to the side instead. "Is it even possible for you to pull away from me, being that you are a personification of my soul?"

She let out a small hoot of laughter. "No, I suppose not."

* * *

The light of dawn crept slowly across the room, eventually coming to rest upon Loki's face. Ásenthilay shifted in her sleep, curling in a tighter ball of fur closer to Loki's chest, and he in turn shifted, turning over to face away from the light. It was only when there was a loud slam of something outside his room that Loki sat bolt upright. Ásenthilay hissed in alarm, scrambling to her feet, her fur on end.

Any weariness was quickly shredded away as Loki's door was thrown open; Thor shouldered his way inside.

Quick as a flash, Ásenthilay fled underneath the cushions, scrabbling at the material as she folded her shape into the smallest creature she can think of on the spot: a beetle.

Running his hands through his hair, Loki draped his legs over the side of the bed and casually placed his hands on his lap. He looked up at Thor as he walked over to him, grim-faced. "I have something to discuss with you, Brother."

"Couldn't it have waited until I was fully awake and sorted, Thor?"

"No, it has to be now."

Just because Father treated both himself and Thor as true warriors now, didn't mean that they could throw their weight around, act like they were greater than everyone else, and yet, Thor saw it as that. He deemed it as a reason to boss others around, to act as king when he wasn't one. It was stupid and arrogant.

"You are hiding something from me, Brother."

"What?" Loki fought the urge to frown, sensing Ásenthilay twitch from where she lay buried beneath the cloth.

"You are concealing something from me, Mother and Father. There is something you are not telling us."

"There are secrets that we _all_ keep. That you yourself keep, Thor."

He shook his head. "Not like this. This... secret that has our mother so worried about you."

Loki tilted his head to the side in question. "Worried? For what reason?"

"For exactly the same reason that you are not telling us." Thor crouched, leaned closer to Loki, studied him. "What are you hiding from us, Loki?"

From beneath the cushions Ásenthilay fell as still and silent as a statue.

"Nothing," Loki said.

"It must be something," Thor said, a slight furrow to his brow. "You wouldn't lie if it was nothing."

Huffing a small laugh, Loki leaned forwards towards him. "I am not lying."

Thor shook his head. "I have never been the best at reading you, Loki. Mother is more for that; knowing when you are telling the truth, or when you are lying. But, I know, I know right now that you are lying." He stood up. "You gave yourself away when you rubbed the palm of your hand."

"Oh so perceptive, aren't you?" Loki sneered. "Why don't you leave and go boast about how incredible you are to your friends like you usually do."

It was as if Loki had punched him square in the face. He flinched back, his expression blanketed by hurt, shock and anger. "Loki! I -"

"I don't care. You, Mother, Father... You always think I'm up to something. You always think that I have to be hiding something if I'm acting in any way different to how you want me to act! Is it so hard to believe that I just wish for time alone for once? That I don't wish to participate in any of your stupid little sparring matches, or follow along like a shadow in the wake of your oh-so-great self?!"

Loki sprang to his feet, clenching his fists, glaring at Thor. "I want to _read_ in peace and learn how to best control my _magic _in peace. And sometimes, I don't want to go out adventuring, or saving others when you and your friends can do it so much better without me being there."

It took a while before Thor spoke again, his mouth slightly open, his expression like that of a kicked puppy, and when he finally did, he spoke quietly, "I... I didn't know, Loki. I didn't think you-"

"You didn't think that I had my own thoughts and feelings, did you?"

"No, that's not it! I just didn't realize that you wished for time alone. Loki!" He looked at him in frustration. "_Why _didn't you tell me this sooner? Or tell Mother and Father about this? They'd understand -"

Loki snorted. "Father wouldn't understand and, I did not think that I would actually need to spell out that I wanted time to myself to Mother. I thought it was quite obvious."

Frowning, Thor folded his arms. "No, that isn't true. We cannot read your mind, Loki. Just... tell me next time, or tell whoever you want instead of keeping it all to yourself. We can't run around after you all of the time trying to figure out what goes on inside that weird mind of yours."

"If you say so." Loki sat back down on his mattress, turning away from Thor. "Are we done here? I still need to bathe and change, you know."

"Yes, I've said what I wanted to say." Thor sighed. "Like I said before, Loki. Just let us know of situations like this instead of keeping them to yourself. It makes it seem as if you are hiding something from us. ... I will let Mother know that you just wanted to find some time to yourself." He turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.

As soon as the sound of his footsteps had retreated, Ásenthilay crawled out from beneath the pillows. "Are you sure that that was the right thing to do?"

"When it comes to protecting something as important as you, Ásenthilay, I believe it is the right thing to do. Even now, after all of these years, I don't want Father to know about you. Who knows what he would do?"

"Maybe he would see it as something good? That it would give you a chance to explore the differences between Midgard and Asgard in greater detail?" Ásenthilay crawled onto his arm, her antennae lifting upright.

Loki scoffed. "Of course, that would be as likely a thing to happen as Father praising me for something that I have done."

"You never know, Loki. It could happen."

Loki shrugged and looked away. "If you believe so."

* * *

"You wish to find time to yourself, hm?" Frigga sat with her hands neatly folded in her lap, regarding Loki from across the table. "I find it an odd request, considering that you have never been one to conceal such thoughts from your own mother over the years."

Loki kept his expression neutral as he responded, "Day by day, year by year, I am growing older, Mother. I deem the nature of such a demand to be whiny and immature, so I chose not to speak it."

"And yet you were perfectly capable of supplying Thor with your demands," Frigga said, amusement lacing her tone.

Loki looked away.

"Loki, whatever it is you are not showing me, for I can sense the magic you are using to mask it, I will not judge it. You can show it to me."

"I cannot."

"Why?"

"It is something Father will not approve of." There was no way in which he could lie believably to Mother. She knew of the layer of lies of which he spun. What other way was there but to tell her a fraction of the truth? Even if he could not tell her it in full.

Frigga leaned back in her seat, scrutinizing him. "Loki, my son, leave the matter of his approval to me. Whatever it is that you have deemed to hide from us, I will not see it as a problem. In fact, the manner in which you have managed to conceal this presence from me is commendable." A small smile crossed her lips. "However, I would appreciate it highly if you were to show me it, instead of keeping it wrapped up beneath the spells that you have cast."

"I would prefer not." Ásenthilay curled tightly around his ankles, her feline eyes finding Loki's gaze for the briefest of moments.

Silence descended like a veil over the room. Frigga rested one hand over the other.

"Very well," Frigga sighed. "If you wish to remain adamant, so be it. But, in my opinion that in itself is immature."

Loki stood. "If we're finished here, I'll be taking my leave. Good evening, Mother." He bowed his head to her and turned away, Ásenthilay padding along beside him in his wake.

Frigga watched him go, her brow furrowing.

For an instant, as a secreted flash of her magic had met Loki's own, she had caught sight of motion.

She had caught sight of a small being that exuded an aura of silver light.


	4. Persistence

He twirled to avoid the incoming lash of the lance, the whistle of the weapon loud in his ears as it rushed past. Wordlessly, Loki slammed his dagger into the demon's ribs; there was a resounding crack as the strength of the blow split his foe's bones. With a harsh cry, the demon collapsed to his knees - and that was all that was needed. A flash of black leaped from out of the magic imbued mist, slamming into Loki's attacker. A large paw pinned him down against the dirt by his throat, and sharp teeth finished him off before he could utter a single sound.

Straightening, Loki let his gaze fall upon the black panther. "You did well."

"As did you." Ásenthilay licked the blood off of her lips and prowled towards Loki, gradually flicking her form from feline to canine. "Will they notice that his death wasn't by your hands?" she asked, glancing towards the felled demon.

Loki smirked. "I think not, not if I were to -" He walked over and sliced the dagger across the corpse's throat.

"I have noticed, Ásenthilay, that you are staying in each form for longer periods of time as of late."

Ásenthilay bared her teeth in a coyote grimace and swished her tail to the left. "I admit, it has become more of a chore to switch between shapes. I much prefer stability to turbulence. But, you already know that, I'm sure." She tilted her head, her eyes crinkling in a smile. "You feel the twist of it each time I change, same as me."

"Yes but, it is always best to know about it in full, than to only know partly," Loki said, flashing her a smile as he walked over to her.

A war cry sounded, followed by the heavy pounding of footsteps. A demon raced into sight and, in a flash, Ásenthilay was upon him, snarling viciously. She closed her teeth around the demon's fighting arm. In the split few seconds it took for the demon's features to contort in shock and confusion, Loki appeared behind him, piercing his heart with a silver dagger. He slumped to the ground; Ásenthilay swiftly jumped back to avoid getting caught under the fallen body.

"This magic-imbued mist will not last forever," she said, padding over to lean against Loki's legs. "I will only be concealed for as long as it will last and then, word will spread of the strange creature fighting by your side. Would you want that?" She looked up at him.

"I will veil you from their sight before they notice you," Loki said, glancing around at their surroundings, his stance defensive. At any moment more of their enemies could come. "The instant that this mist fades, I will cast the spell of obscurity over you."

She turned, examining the mist, awaiting what lay beyond it and then, her amber gaze settled back on his, reflecting a solemn edge. "We should tell them."

Loki scoffed. "And let them mock us for our differences? I think not."

"They will not mock us. Besides, you have gone through much worse derision in the past. The manner of your fighting style, for instance. That was classified as alien by their standards and yet, see how they appreciate your wit and agility now?" Ásenthilay touched her nose to Loki's fingers. "They will accept our differences as they have accepted yours."

Any other exchange of words was lost as they were rushed from both sides by a pair of axe-wielding demons. With a rumbling growl, Ásenthilay launched herself at her nearest foe, snapping and tearing into the demon's throat and face. Loki dropped to avoid the blow of his own opponent's axe, slashing out with one dagger whilst throwing another at him from behind with the command of a wordless spell.

The mêlée didn't last long.

With a powerful strike of a grizzly's paw, Ásenthilay's foe dropped to the floor dead. The ache of the shift of his dæmon's form reverberated around inside of Loki's chest.

He cast a multitude of illusions around his own foe, dropping to the back of this illusionary crowd as the scarlet-hued demon lashed out at them in a frenzy, a roar emanating from his curled lips. Throwing a set of daggers past the illusions, he struck the demon in the forehead, sending him toppling to the ground.

He waved a hand over Ásenthilay, cloaking her from the naked eye.

"The warriors and Thor, they have still not accepted our differences, and they never will."

Ásenthilay lowered her head, her eyes narrowing in a bear interpretation of a scowl. As she opened her mouth to speak, a voice called out from the evaporating mist, "You have fought well, Brother."

Thor marched over, a smile gracing his lips. "We have triumphed, the demons have fled."

"And how can you be so sure?" Loki asked, turning to face him.

"We watched them leave," Sif said, appearing from out of the mist. "They are fleeing back to Muspelheim as we speak."

The mist was now no more than vapour about their feet, the jade forest surrounding them becoming clearer by the minute. Ásenthilay had dropped to all fours, edging closer to Loki so that her side brushed against his.

"The inhabitants of Alfheim will be pleased to know that the fire demons caused little damage," Thor said, shifting his hold on Mjølnir, casually holding it by his side.

"Yes, we took care of that," Fandral's smug voice rang out. Fandral walked over and stopped beside Thor, a confident smirk on his features. "They won't be coming back in a hurry."

"We should call down the Bifrost," Volstagg added placing a hand on Thor's shoulder as he passed, "and celebrate."

"Not until after we have let the Light Elves know of our success," Thor said.

Hogun, as silent as ever, nodded in agreement as he came to a halt beside Sif.

"This is the perfect opportunity to tell them," murmured Ásenthilay, leaning closer to Loki. "Tell them about us."

Loki shifted away slightly from her and she shot him a disappointed look.

"Let us go and meet with them," Thor announced, sweeping away, his red cape twirling dramatically behind him.

Sif and the Warriors Three followed and Loki shadowed them, Ásenthilay casting him the occasional dark look as she lumbered along beside him.

"Eventually they will know. We can't keep this a secret forever," she hissed, bumping him with her snout spitefully.

We can, is all that Loki thinks. We can keep this a secret forever, and we will. No matter what you say, Ásenthilay, we will be mocked. They will not take kindly to our differences.

Frustration sang along the connection between them both; it ran from Ásenthilay to himself, settling and curling itself about his ribcage. He fought to keep himself composed.

Their journey was mostly a muted one, filled only with the occasional sound of running water from the rivers nearby or the territorial song of an avian from somewhere amongst the trees.

Loki could hear the irritated huffs of his soul companion even though the others couldn't. She was holding her head low, her rounded ears twitching back in response to noises that he himself could not hear. He purposefully didn't look at her as she tried to catch his eye. And then, as quick as a flash, she was not by his side anymore; she was bounding ahead.

She stopped before Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three.

A deep seated wrench of a sensation swept through Loki's stomach.

The others had come to a stop.

A stream of light descended down upon the dark form of Ásenthilay, and Loki could sense as the spell that had so successfully obscured her from sight was broken through the stubborn force of Ásenthilay's will. Swifter than she had done in a long time, Ásenthilay shifted form with a mutedflick. Now, she stood before the group as a smaller golden-coloured beast, dotted with splashes of dark brown along her back and sides.

She raised her muzzle proudly. Her gaze resting upon Thor and the warriors. "I am Ásenthilay; the soul of Loki Odinson. I am his dæmon and protector; his friend and advisor. Many aeons ago he descended down to the realm of Midgard through a portal, and was granted me as payment. I stand before you now to ask that you treat me as much the same as you treat Loki, for we are both bound by the same connection and sense of mind as one another. We are as one."

Stunned silence greeted her words. Sif was frowning in thought, whereas Fandral and Volstagg were regarding Ásenthilay with curiosity. Hogun turned to regard Loki and Thor remained quiet for some moments.

It only took those few moments for Loki to storm past them, brushing the others aside in his hurry to get to Ásenthilay.

"Why?" he hissed. "Why did you do that?"

"It was needed, Loki," she simply replied. "We couldn't contain this secret forever."

"But, why now? Why not -"

"Some other time?" she asked, amusement colouring her tone. "Because there would never be some other time. It had to be done now."

Behind them, Thor cleared his throat. "So, this is the secret that you have been keeping from us all of this time? You left for Midgard to return with a dæmon? This is not something that I would have ever expected of you, Brother."

Despite his anger at Ásenthilay for doing what she did, Loki rested a hand upon her furred head. He refused to turn, refused to acknowledge his brother. Was that disappointment he had picked up in the tone of Thor's voice, or anger?

"You certainly kept this in the dark," Fandral said with a small chuckle. "I too wouldn't have expected this of you."

"I wouldn't have put it past him," Sif's voice rang out. Loki didn't need to turn around to know that she had folded her arms, the manner in which she had spoken too spoke volumes of her current actions. "It's every bit as expected as the pranks that he pulls behind our backs."

"Come now, Lady Sif! There is no need for such words," Volstagg boomed out.

"Isn't there?" she said.

"There is not," Thor replied. He rested a hand on Loki's shoulder and Loki tensed. "Loki may lie and play tricks that have caused ample problems in the past, however this is a different matter - if, still a show of a lie that has now only now been displayed to me when it could very well have been shown to me previously." His hold tightened a moment before he let go. "I will tell Mother and Father of this development when we return to Asgard."

Loki fought hard to keep a scowl from creeping over his features, his heart pounding away in his chest. This was not what he wanted. He hadn't wanted any of them to know and now, now, Ásenthilay had spoiled it all. She had blurted out their secret, ripped apart their carefully concealed nature and had lain it bare for all to see.

His fingers curled into Ásenthilay's ruff, then he dropped his hand away from her.

She looked up at him, her ears tilting back at a slight angle. "Loki?" she said softly. "I did this for us."

"If you insist," he said bitterly.


	5. Friction

Silence: it hung stagnant within the air.

Loki stood tall, his expression carefully composed. Ásenthilay stood close to his side, her eyes fixed upon Odin.

Odin sat upon his throne, looking down at them. He had been quiet for some time.

"This is a grave matter," he said, the words echoing around the royal chamber. "Not once did you deem it necessary to tell me of this; to tell me of the creature that was borne to you upon stepping on Midgard's ground, why?"

"I knew that you would not approve."

"Of course I don't. This beast belongs down there, with them. Not here amongst the Æsir."

Ásenthilay twitched, the left side of her lips curling slightly, revealing a sliver of white teeth. A rush of her fury resonated with Loki and he fought the urge to curl his hands into fists. 'Beast'?

"She does not belong in Midgard," he said. "She belongs here, with me." As if to emphasize this point, Ásenthilay pressed herself closer to Loki, her eyes set in a rebellious glare up at Odin.

Without a word, Odin stood and moved closer to Loki and his dæmon. "That," he said, pointing to Ásenthilay with the tip of Gungnir, "does not belong at your side nor within this realm. If you do not release it back upon Midgard, then I will deal with it myself."

Loki scoffed. The fury burned deep into his heart and scorched across his tongue, he could not contain it any longer. "Do you know nothing of Midgard, Father? Of the dæmons that reside there? No, of course not. You play ignorant to the realm's background, thinking of them as slight. They matter little to you."

"How dare you...!" Odin growled.

"Well, is it not true? You have never considered to tutor us regarding the nature of that realm nor many of the other realms beyond scraps of Vanaheim's customs and the monstrous violence of the Jotuns of Jotunheim. You think that knowledge gained from those realms unworthy, unworthy of you _and_ of your attention. You think that we too need not know the nature of these realms beyond what you already know yourself."

As his words rang throughout the royal chamber, Ásenthilay fully bared her teeth, her head held high and hackles raised. Loki lay a hand on her maned neck, his emerald eyes narrowed.

"I have taught you everything that you need to know," Odin snapped. "I am no scholar to sit down and record the inhabitant's lives on Midgard; their ways matter not. What is important, crucial, is in teaching you and Thor the ways of royalty, of what it will one day mean to be king. I will not tolerate you sitting idly by watching and learning things that matter little to the subjects at hand!"

"That is exactly the point! They 'matter little'. The realms, the knowledge that they hold that you deem of trivial importance, they _do _matter. We need to know more than just what _you _find important, it is vital to our studies."

"It is not!" Odin slammed Gungnir's end down upon the floor, the noise resounding loudly throughout the chamber. "The matters of the realm's inhabitants belong in those realms, and those realms only."

"Why am I even concerning myself with talking to you?" Loki sneered. "You never care to listen to me anyway. The only affairs you bother to attend to are affairs of war, of hostilities, nothing else."

"It is you who does not listen!" Odin said. "All of those years ago I _ordered _you to stay in Asgard; you were not allowed to leave the palace's grounds and yet, what did you do? Not only did you leave the palace grounds, but you also left Asgard; travelling from here to Midgard with little care for the rules _I_ had set in place. You let the realm poison you; you took a beast with you from that realm and kept it secreted away from me knowing that what you had committed was far greater a violation of my rules than to simply meander through such a trivial world!"

Odin straightened, his expression grim. "And now, you leave me with little choice but to deal with this situation myself."

He approached, and as Ásenthilay snapped and Loki moved to protect his dæmon, Odin swiftly grasped hold of Ásenthilay by the scruff.

Dimly, Loki heard Ásenthilay emit a high-pitched yelp. He stumbled, feeling as if his ribs were constricting his ability to breathe.

He fell to his knees on the floor.

Wrong, this was wrong. The word ran over and over through his mind like the repetition of a piece of spell work he had yet to memorise. This feeling, it was unrelenting and horrific.

Ásenthilay's high-pitched scream cut through him like the pointed end of a dagger. He felt her pain, her fear, her _anger _and something more than that; a sense of deep-seated disgust and nausea that swiftly rolled like a turmoil of waves crashing ruthlessly against Loki's insides.

And then, there was a pull, as if someone was trying to tear away a part of him - and they were.

Ignorant of the suffering he was causing, lost in his own frustration and fury, Odin was yanking Ásenthilay away, tugging her through the royal chamber's double doors and down the hallway.

Even as the world grew dark and muted all around him, Loki still managed to push himself to his feet, still managed to follow. He reached out towards his soul as she was pulled viciously away from him.

Through a mixed whine and groan of pain, Ásenthilay called out to him, "Loki! Don't -"

He didn't care. She wasn't a mere beast to be treated in this way! She was his! His soul, the only one to ever truly listen.

Fighting the agony, the crashing waves of sickness, he soldiered on. He moved after them as fast as he dared, clutching to their invisible link as it was stretched ever further.

One hand clasped over his chest. It was a sheer sense of true anguish, of loss and grief that struck him over and over. It became ever more palpable the longer that he and Ásenthilay were kept apart.

He could feel the gaze of watching Æsir; he didn't care. All he wanted to do was get to Ásenthilay, hold her tight and never let her go.

Ásenthilay turned to look back at him, her wide brown eyes meeting his. "Go back, Loki!" she cried. "This is my... my fault. I dragged you into this mess."

In that instant, something changed inside of him. A feeling of deep resentment reared up, reinforced by determination that built itself up around his heart.

Straightening as best he could, Loki fought against the strong build up of agonising loss and broke into a run, his emerald gaze coldly fixed upon Odin's retreating back.

By this time Odin was marching across the castle grounds, Ásenthilay tugged roughly along in tow.

"Father!" Loki yelled, the iciness of his tone reverberating through the air. He stopped as Odin did, the older Asgardian facing away from him. "Let, her, go." Loki's eyes narrowed as the last word left his lips.

"No, Loki," Odin said, turning to face him. Ásenthilay let out a quiet gasp, the link between her and Loki sending a sliver of the pain across the back of his neck. "I am merely doing what is right. This creature does not belong here, and no matter how many times you say it does, it will not change my thought on the matter." Ásenthilay struggled, pulled towards Loki, trying to lessen the distance between them, trying to provide them some comfort. Her eyes were fixed on his.

The gap between them was too much, and Loki wanted nothing more than to remove it.

He stepped forward. "Give her back to me."

"I will not," Odin snapped. "Not until this situation is properly dealt with."

Ásenthilay's ears fell flat against her head, but she bared her teeth in a grimace of fury. Odin pulled her closer toward him, the rough nature of the action causing Ásenthilay to emit a high-pitched squeak in pain.

Loki winced, feeling the burn of it along his spine - the world wavered before him.

Would Father _ever _listen to reason? No, he doubted very highly if it was ever in his nature to. Much like Thor himself, never listening to reason when it was of the most importance.

He was glad he wasn't like them.

But, perhaps if he was to tell him of the dæmons of Midgard, perhaps he would let her go. It was the only thing he could think, only thing he could do in this situation. The pain, the anguish, it was clouding his mind, forcing back every thought. He could only focus on what was happening here and now.

However, he hesitated, battling both against the wave of negativity, of emptiness that threatened to overwhelm him time and time again and the thought of revealing such things of Ásenthilay when they could be considered a weakness. Ásenthilay caught his eye, her grim determination, even in the face of this event, finalized his decision.

"Upon Midgard, the talking 'beasts' as you put it, are connected to each individual Midgardian. They are their souls personified and, if you had deemed to learn more about Midgard, you would know that."

"Lies!" Odin snarled. "I will show you how wrong you are about these so-called 'souls personified'." He lifted Gungnir, and the tip began to glow blue. In a sudden movement, he pinned down Ásenthilay.

"What are you doing?" Loki gasped, as Ásenthilay struggled and snapped her jaws in Odin's grasp.

"What has to be done," Odin said harshly, and he fired the bolt of blue energy down upon the dæmon.

Her scream was shrill, piercing. It sank deep into his chest, into his _heart. _Lava was running through his veins burning him - melting away at his insides - and he was screaming, on his knees, screaming for Ásenthilay. This was wrong, twisted, agony. It cut deep into his very being, slicing through him, slicing apart a section of his _soul_.

The burning sensation was icing over, digging itself deep into the middle of his chest. Numbness pooled in his stomach and there was a metallic taste of blood on his tongue.

Everything was a blur, everything was muted. He didn't know where he was anymore. He didn't know where Ásenthilay was.

He just wanted her back. He just wanted to escape this suffering.

There was ringing in his ears, and then silence.

Pale, his eye wide, Odin watched as the healers carried his son away.

"Do not touch the dæmon with your bare hands," Frigga said quietly to them. "Carry her amongst these blankets instead." She walked past them; the newly summoned pile of neatly folded blankets appearing close beside the dæmon's body. She stopped at Odin's side.

Silence descended as the pair of them watched the healers gingerly wrap the blankets around the unconscious hyena and carry her through the castle's open doors after Loki's unconscious form.

"You have broken Loki's trust," Frigga said coolly. The pursing of her lips and glacial look to her eyes speaking more of her anger than the tone in which she said it. 'You have broken my trust, as well,' said the look she cast Odin with. "Who knows if he will recover from it." There was a cold, furious edge to her words. She was struggling to keep her emotions in check: it was evident in the furrow of her brow.

"I was never told of this," Odin said lowly.

"You never tried to find out," Frigga replied. "You could have learned more about the Midgardians and their ways. You could have journeyed down there to learn of their ways, their customs, their dæmons. Instead you turned away from the thought of knowing their origins and paid through your actions, causing harm to our son."

"Huginn and Muninn are very similar to Midgard's dæmons," she continued.

Odin frowned and opened his mouth to retort - Frigga raised a hand.

"You have a deep connection with the two ravens, do you not? That very same connection is what runs like an invisible thread from a dæmon and back to their mortal. That invisible thread is what binds them so tightly to one another that they can be deemed two sides of the same blade."

She turned, then, looked carefully back at Odin, a mixture of sadness and distress lining the lowering of her brow. "You badly damaged that connection, that bond, that hangs similarly between Loki and his dæmon, Odin - he is as bound to his dæmon as the Midgardians are bonded to theirs. Dæmons are the souls of these mortals and Loki's dæmon is no exception."

Odin looked away. "I thought his words to be nothing more than lies, much like he commonly supplies us with daily. I did not think..."

"You believe the words of your beloved but not the words of your son? Odin, this alone speaks volumes of your treatment toward him."

She pulled away and disappeared beneath the shadows of the castle's open doors.

"I would suggest you think over your actions," she called back to him.

The double doors closed behind her.


	6. Release

The world was a blur. A muted mixture of greys and whites and blacks, of lowered voices that didn't make sense to his ears. He didn't know where he was, or what was going on. In fact, his mind was so clogged up and as bleary as his eyesight that Loki couldn't make sense of anything for several minutes. He just lay there, resting on some cold surface the current processes of his mind could not yet identify. His eyes remained closed.

He felt sick to his stomach. It felt as if every fibre of his being was ablaze in an inferno of wrathful flames.

There was a gentle, careful nudge of a lukewarm nose against his left hand and a flow of worry sang through him. He attempted to reach out toward the muzzle attached to that nose and felt his fingers brush against fur.

"You're okay," he breathed. His throat hurt, it was rough and raw - the aftermath of screaming and shouting, he'd imagine.

"And so are you," Ásenthilay rasped. She sounded as bad as he felt. "You sound as bad as I too feel."

Loki heard her let out a quiet chuff of laughter, which was immediately followed by a lance of pain that struck down Loki's left side. He winced, and he was certain that Ásenthilay winced too.

Cautiously, he opened his eyes to see his dæmon's chocolate brown eyes focused upon him. She dropped open her maw slightly in a small smile.

"I knew it was only a matter of time until you woke up," she said quietly. "I have been awake only for a little while, although it feels as if I've been awake longer."

"I'd imagine," Loki said, offering her the slightest waver of a smile.

Her ears flicked back, catching the sound of something that he could not. She sat back on her haunches, a slight gust of air passing Loki by in reaction to her movements. "I told the healers to leave us for a while. They will be returning here again soon. As you can tell, they have yet to fully deal with our unfortunate injuries."

"'Unfortunate', hm," Loki murmured, turning his head away to stare at the wall opposite him; dull stone alight in the glow of the imprisoned flames.

"I'm sorry," Ásenthilay said, her voice low and heavy with remorse.

"You just did what you thought was best, at the time." There was a downward twist to Loki's lips. "Even if it did not end in the way either of us would expect."

"I didn't think that he would have resorted to such violence."

Yes, 'he'. Not Father, not Odin nor All-Father. Just, 'he'. The quiet fury and resentment that simmered through Loki's core, that was just as prominent a feeling through Ásenthilay's veins, refused for them both to acknowledge their abuser as anything other than a pronoun.

"That is his way. An inciter of anger, annoyance and upset is he."

A backlash of 'his' attack flooded through their mind; the blue flash of light, Ásenthilay's scream of agony, the look of grim determination on Odin's face.

Loki hated him for it.

He hated him for the damage he had caused.

But, what damage was that exactly?

Even if the healers had taken them here, seen to their injuries for as long as they had before Ásenthilay sent them away, what remained?

Loki looked back to Ásenthilay then, studying her. She seemed uncomfortable under his scrutiny, he'd noticed that. All of this time, she'd turned slightly away as if to hide something...

"What is it?" he asked, turning to face her as best he could, his body protesting in flashes of aches and inflexibility.

She wouldn't look at him, her eyes fixed on the floor. "The energy that harmed me, it, has left me debilitated."

"How, exactly, do you mean?"

She turned back to look at him fully.

His eyes widened.

Where her left foreleg should have been, there was a half-healed patch of inflamed skin in its place.

She shifted, pressing closer to the table he rested upon, and then reached up to brush her snout across his hand in an act of reassurance. "It's okay. I'm fine."

"You are not fine," Loki said quietly. "This is far from fine."

He reached down and curled his fingers in the wild fur of her ruff. "Does he even care about us?" he asked, his voice a whisper.

Ásenthilay's ears lowered. "I know not."

They'd been sent to their chambers to recuperate after the healers had mended them. For Loki and Ásenthilay, that was all they wanted.

They lay upon the floor, close to their bed, both leaning back against it. Loki wrapped his arms around Ásenthilay's broad neck, trying not to look down at the space where her left foreleg should have been. Unconsciously, he began to run one hand through her fur, his mind running through the events that had led up to now - led up to this.

"He doesn't understand," Ásenthilay said.

"And he never will," Loki responded. "What he has done, what he has done to _you_, I will never forget it. Never had I thought that he would cross such boundaries as to cause us harm."

"He did not think that I was your soul, he saw me as a mere creature." Although she spoke as if she was defending him, there was a bitter edge to her tone.

"You do not wish to defend him, and you know it. What he has done, it cannot be forgiven. Iwill _not _forgive him and I am certain that you will not either. Look at what he has done to you." His words caught in his throat, his gaze automatically finding that of the emptiness where Ásenthilay's limb should be.

Looking away, Ásenthilay muttered, "Let's just rest."

Even though his mind was rife with arguments over everything that had happened, he had to agree. After everything that had occurred, all he wanted to do right now was sleep.

Standing, he switched his clothes into ones of comfort with a wordless spell and slipped under the bed sheets. Ásenthilay leaped up and curled up close to him.

"Ásenthilay?" Loki asked quietly.

"Hm?"

"You can't shift form anymore, can you?"

"No, I can't."

"... I think it's for the best."

As exhaustion claimed him, an echo of Ásenthilay's scream tore through his mind, imprinting itself deep within his dreams.

* * *

"Loki?"

Pulled away from the darkness of slumber, Loki awoke to find Frigga worriedly standing at the doorway.

"How are you faring?"

"Very well," he lied, pushing himself up into a sitting position. Ásenthilay opened her eyes blearily and moved a little, flicking her ears back. She watched Frigga warily.

Frigga's eyes narrowed in that scrutinizing way it always had when she knew he was being insincere.

"I can tell," she said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her.

"What do you want?"

"To talk," she simply replied, conjuring up a chair and sitting down gracefully upon it.

Loki placed one hand upon Ásenthilay's head, remaining silent.

"Your father did not understand the nature of his actions, nor the damage that he was to cause before he had caused it."

"He does not deserve excuses, he still went through with what he did regardless of whether or not he understood."

"I am not defending him, Loki. I am merely stating what is the truth. The fact that he persisted, is on his own head. He is in shock over what has happened to you and Ásenthilay both, I am sure."

Loki scoffed. "I doubt he cares much for my soul."

"He does care, he cares dearly for you, my son - it is simply difficult for him to express it clearly."

"If he truly loved me, then he would listen to me, acknowledge what I previously told him of the Midgardians. He should have acknowledged it as the truth!"

"Loki, remember that your trickery has led him into believing the worst of you-"

Loki laughed bitterly. "So _now _you are defending him! Of course-"

"I am not defending him," Frigga interrupted calmly. "This is yet another fact that you would rather I not speak of, and you know it."

Loki fell silent, glaring resentfully at her.

She shook her head and sighed, reaching up to rub at her temple with a finger. "Loki, what I wish to discuss with you is not to do with your father. It is, in fact, to do with Midgard."

Ásenthilay observed her carefully, squinting her chocolate brown eyes. "After everything that he has done and you wish, instead, to speak of Midgard? Why?"

"There is a reason why you are here," Frigga answered, looking at her. "And it isn't simply due to Loki's decision to step through the portal."

Loki leaned forward, a furrow to his brow. "How do you know-?"

"Of it? Because I was the one to open that particular portal."

Ásenthilay sat up, her eyes growing wide. Loki grasped at the thick fur upon her neck, his gaze mirroring his dæmon's own. "What?" he said, barely able to believe it. "You opened that portal? But, why didn't you close it behind you?"

"I was only going to stay in Midgard for a short while, then return. There were... things I had to attend to."

"Attend to what, exactly?"

She looked away. "Matters involving dæmons."

A flash of Ásenthilay's magpie visage filled his thoughts for a moment. "You... have a dæmon, don't you?"

"Yes."

"You went to see that dæmon."

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he said, his voice rising in frustration. "You could have helped me understand."

"It was better to let you understand for yourself what it is like to live with your soul separate from your body," she replied, her gaze flickering to Ásenthilay for a moment, before she let it rest back upon Loki.

He clenched his hands into fists. He should be angry with her, furious. She was the catalyst for all of this. She was the one that had led Ásenthilay into getting hurt...! But, if it had not been for her and the portal that she had left exposed, he would never have been able to meet Ásenthilay in the first place.

Absently, he reached up to run a hand through her fur.

To this day, he would never wish to have done things any differently.

He would never wish to have never travelled down to Midgard.

But, something concerned him. If Mother had a daemon, where was it?

"Where is your dæmon?" he asked quietly.

She straightened in her seat, placing her hands upon her lap. "Back upon Midgard. She is separated from me," she replied.

"Separated?"

"Yes, we both decided upon it a long time ago. It was best for her to remain down there, whilst I stayed up here in Asgard, thus we both stretched the connection that bound us as far as it would go. Now, we are both free to do as we please."

The thought of stretching the connection between himself and Ásenthilay, suffering through the pain that had left them partially debilitated at the hands of _him_, it was shudder inducing. It left Loki feeling sick to his stomach, Ásenthilay's ears falling back against her head in reaction to the waves of nausea, that fed itself through their invisible link.

"I do not wish for you to separate from your dæmon," Frigga said. "It is an experience that I would never wish for you to undergo but, I want you both to be safe."

Loki frowned. "Safe? Is there something you are trying to hint at, Mother?"

"Indeed there is. Loki, I wish for you to leave Asgard for a while, if possible, alongside myself."

Emitting a low grunt, Ásenthilay lifted her head. She tilted it to the side in question. "Why?"

The very same query had just been buzzing around inside of Loki's head: Why would she wish for him to leave Asgard? For what purpose? Unless, it was to do with _him _and what he had committed.

"It is to do with what transpired between myself and... Father, isn't it?" he asked.

Frigga inclined her head in answer. "It is. Many of the Aesir, along with your father, do not wholly understand the realms outside of Asgard as they should. I wish to correct that. Firstly, by accompanying you on the journey down to Midgard, to leave you with one of the All-Father's watchers. Through the eyes of the bird he will learn and see as much as you do yourself. It would be a good experience for him - as well as you. It would make him learn from his mistakes... From, what he did to you." Bitterness seeped into her tone and her brow furrowed slightly, her gaze looking somewhere beyond Loki for a brief time.

She came back to herself quickly, however, and focused back upon them both once more. "I will be asking permission of your father to travel down there within the next few days, to allow you time to rest and allow me time to make the proper arrangements."

Loki frowned.

Travel? To Midgard? It was something that had been preying upon his mind for many years. Often he had asked Ásenthilay if she would ever wish to go with him back down to Midgard to learn more of the things that they had left behind but, the opportunity to fully explore Midgard had never presented itself.

They had always ended up stuck here in Asgard, left to follow Thor and his cohorts on their many ventures to the other realms; disregarding the lower realm and the secrets that it could possibly hold.

"And what if I don't want to go?" Loki said, narrowing his eyes.

Frigga smiled a small, knowing smile. "You wish to, and you know it. You cannot refute it. The fact that you have a dæmon where many other Aesir do not was enough to pique your interest aeons ago and it is enough to pique your interest now."

Wrapping an arm around Ásenthilay's side, Loki fought to keep his expression neutral.

Mother had always been so perceptive, and that had not changed in the present.

Frigga stood, placing one hand upon the backrest of the chair - it disappeared as quickly as it had come. "I will leave you to consider your choice on the matter."

With that, she walked out.

"What do you think?" Ásenthilay asked moments later, turning to look at Loki. "Should we go?"

Loki shook his head. "I'm, unsure. True, it has been something that we have deemed intriguing for many years - the dæmons of Midgard, are they different from you? Why do we have such a bond as to cause us such pain when we are too far from one another? Is that the same for them?" He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back against the pillows. "... He would not approve it. He wouldn't want us to go down there, regardless of whether or not Frigga will be the one to suggest it. He is far too stubborn for that."

Ásenthilay remained silent, her ears twitching in contemplation. Back in the past, she would have retorted, told Loki that Father may well agree with Mother but, now, what was the point in that? He had caused them both harm and to her, defending him was worthless. It meant little to her now.

"Besides," he snarled, "I would not want him watching over every action of mine nor yours. Not after what he did."

"Should we care as to whether he approves it or not?" Ásenthilay said. "After all, we could always go down there ourselves. You now have the potential to jump from one world to another without the need of Heimdall, do you not?"

Slowly, a smirk worked its way onto Loki's face. "Yes, I do, and of course we will travel to Midgard for ourselves, when did I say that we would not?"

* * *

The portal was open, the wind catching at his hair and Ásenthilay's fur.

Wordlessly, Ásenthilay touched her muzzle to Loki's arm. Wordlessly, he placed a hand upon her back.

Two final actions of hesitation before the jump.

Except, as they stepped through, something felt... wrong. The faintest twinge of a sensation, the faintest flutter of emptiness.

Then it was gone, forgotten.

Lost to them, as the world that they were so used to slipped away in a blur of multi-hues.


End file.
